My little latin love story. Part 6 of who knows how many.

I'm not going to keep doing this, you guys can just scroll down. Fine, we were in Perú and getting to know Mili, her family and her culture.

I don’t know how long I slept. It was probably only an hour, but when I opened my eyes I was looking right into Mili’s eyes.

“How long have you been awake?” I asked.

“Only a moment.”

“All right,” I rolled onto my back and tried to go back to sleep.

“What are you thinking about?” as it turns out this question is a universal question asked by all women trying to get inside the male mind, little do they know that there really isn’t anything to get into.

“How I wish I could have slept better on the plane.”

“I mean we’ve been together for almost twelve hours and we haven’t really even spoken to each other. You’re only going to be here a week.”

“And you would really like to start to get to know me.” She was right, I wanted to get to know her to. I pushed mute on my body’s whining and we begun to talk.

It was a little hard at first; Mili even suggested that we go to the Internet café so maybe would feel a little more comfortable. I was definitely nervous. We were lying in the same bed and talking. My mom always said that the first step to fall off the chastity wagon was to be lying on the same bed, there was no other place to sit in the room and Mili’s family would want to talk to me if I was out in the open. I decided to start the conversation. An hour or two later during a seven-minute pause, we kissed. It was a quick, soft, tongueless kiss. As far as first kisses go, that was the best one I had ever had.

Later that afternoon we flew out to a little province on the Ecuadorian border called Tumbes. Her mom, step-dad, younger brothers and sisters live there and she wasn’t going to let her potential fiancé go home without meeting her parents.

Tumbes is a small town where everybody knows one another. It was surprising to hear that they had an international airport, at the time it didn’t occur to me that if Utah was it’s own country Provo airport would be international. I would often laugh, as Mili would take me around her hometown, because she would always point to someone and say ‘that’s my uncle/cousin/aunt/2nd cousin/etc’ I was reminded of my mom’s hometown. Almost every summer growing up we would go see my grandma and an assortment of cousins. Often on these trips my mom would take us around town and tell us who lived in each house and how we were related to them.

Mili’s parents were somewhat better off than most. They lived in an apartment that was about 100+ years old downtown. They owned the two-story building but rented out the lower half to a chicken restaurant. The floors were well-kept wood and they had plaster walls, except they had movable partitions dividing the large one room apartment into a three-bedroom apartment.

Her mom was very warm and loving the way only a Latin-mother could be and she would shove food down your throat the way most moms do. Her skin was a lighter color than Mili’s and she had red streaks in her light black hair. I thought that the streaks were dyed but Mili swears that that they are natural and have been there her whole life. I’d heard that some Latin women from the jungle have different colored hair, so I didn’t argue. I also heard that on hot days they walked around with their tops off, but I couldn’t prove that either.

Mili’s step-dad was a great deal older than her mom, about forty. But for a man about eighty he sure didn’t act like it. I’m not saying that he was child-like, more like he wasn’t old-like. Most men in their eighties take lots of pills, shake and ask you to repeat everything. He was very lucid, clear and loud. He was easy to get along with and very patient with the holes in my Spanish Vocabulary.

The week went by too quickly and we couldn't stand to be apart for even a second. It was appearant that we got along very well, too well in in fact.

I asked her hand in marriage the day before I went back to the US. We stayed up late walking on the beach that was only twenty-minutes from her house. We kissed constantly until I left.

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